


Five Times Roshaun and Dairine had to Hide Their Relationship + One Time They Didn’t

by Climbergirlio



Series: Dairshaun Things [1]
Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Carmela and Ronan opening a chocolate shop, Dairine and Roshaun being cute, F/M, Nita and Kit being the perfect couple, Wellakh, What's the deal with Wellakhit and Chocolate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Climbergirlio/pseuds/Climbergirlio
Summary: Sometimes, when you're dating the king of an entire planet, you can't actually tell people you're doing that. Instead, it's best to pretend you're "just good friends", even when you're not actually on said planet your boyfriend is king of.First story in my series Dairshaun Things.
Relationships: Dairine Callahan & Nita Callahan, Dairine Callahan & Roshaun ke Nelaid, Dairine Callahan/Roshaun ke Nelaid, Nita Callahan & Kit Rodriguez, Nita Callahan & Ronan Nolan, Nita Callahan/Kit Rodriguez, Ronan Nolan/Carmela Rodriguez
Series: Dairshaun Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605733
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. 1. The Palace

Roshaun was having a headachy day. He had spent all of the day so far meeting with his subjects and hearing their complaints. He had no idea how they expected him to deal with some of the things they had brought up. One man had complained about his daughter’s friend and how she was a bad influence. Like Roshaun didn’t have better things to do than teach a parent how to parent.

He had just dealt with another complaint about the school system -  _ yes _ every Wellakhit was now expected to have a minimum of ten years education, no exceptions, when he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Dairine skillfully wove her way through the crowd until she was next to him. She dipped into a low curtsy and stayed there for three seconds. The crowd didn’t seem to notice who exactly Dairine was. Probably because she was dressed like a servant and hadn’t been officially introduced to the public. Or because they were too wrapped up with their own problems. 

“Sunlord,” she greeted him respectfully.

“Lady Dhairine,” he responded.

_ Hey, you.  _ She sent her thoughts to him as she gracefully sat upon a mat on the floor. 

_ Hey.  _ His response conveyed his inner weariness. 

_ You eaten anything today?  _

Another man stepped up with complaints,  _ no.  _

_ Roshaun! I’ll go get someone to bring you something.  _

Dairine stayed for three more complaints, enough to formally have shown her respects to both Roshaun and the people. She then stood and bowed to him once more, and then turned and bowed to the people. They all raised their right hand and placed it on their left shoulder. Dairine then activated a transport spell and disappeared. Roshaun marveled briefly at how well Dairine handled interacting with his people. She handled it with a grace that made it seem she’d been doing so her whole life. 

Roshaun turned to the next complainer. He started on about how the transportation system was never on time. Roshaun has to calmly explain how the delays are caused by people, not by the system itself. The next complaint came from an elderly lady.

“Sunlord, you have not announced an heir yet, or a formal courting.”

Roshaun repressed the urge to sigh, “I am still very young, madam.”

“When your father was crowned, he was already unionbonded.”

“My father was the suitable age, and was unionbonded before being crowned. My main focus is my duty and not a formal courtship at the moment.”

The lady grumbled and moved aside, revealing a servant who bowed low and told him he had an urgent matter to attend to. Roshaun excused himself and followed the servant to a waiting aircar. Only once he was inside the car did he allow himself to slump down a little against the seat. The day’s events had truly taken it out of him. 

Almost before he realized it, he had arrived at the grand dinner hall. Dairine was standing by the doors, waiting for him. She sinks into another deep curtesy the moment he steps out.

“Thought you were going to bring me dinner?” Roshaun teases.

“I was. I got intercepted on my way to the kitchens by your father though. You’re hosting some fancy dinner,” she shrugs.

“And you’re going dressed like that?” She was in casual Wellakhit garb. An outfit suited to higher ranking ladies, but nowhere near formal enough for a dinner. 

“I wasn’t invited,” she doesn’t sound bitter, but the tone of her voice suggests that there was more to the story.

Roshaun doesn’t press the issue, “you’ll be taking your leave then?” It’s a product of how long he’s had to hide his emotions but he keeps his tone flat, nearly disinterested. 

Dairine eyes a nearby servant, “unless you have a specific task that needs my immediate attention.”

Roshaun waves a hand, “no, not at the moment. Go well, Ambassador.”

She drops into yet another curtesy. “Go with honor, Sunlord.” 

With that, Dairine turns swiftly and begins walking away. Roshaun resists both the temptation to reach after her and to follow her. She must sense his unwillingness because she pauses briefly. Without turning around, she sends him a mental picture of both of their preferred methods of parting. Roshaun then turns to the doors, touching only the briefest of hands to his lips, where he could still feel the phantom kiss. 


	2. 2. The Crossings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone meets up at the crossings

Dairine and Roshaun were a careful one and a half feet apart. It was a stark contrast to their friends, most of whom were attached so closely to their significant others that it was difficult to tell where one body ended and the other began. Dairine glared at them. Roshaun caught the flash of irritation, but all he could do was shoot her a sad smile. She wasn’t sure why she even agreed to this trip. Hanging out with the two sets of lovebirds all day while having to be very strictly platonic with her own boyfriend. She should have realized this was a bad idea from the start. 

“We’re here!” Nita announced happily, opening the door to a nondescript restaurant.

“ _ This  _ is the place?” Dairine asks, skeptical. 

“Yeah, runt. Your sis knows what she’s talking about,” Kit says, obviously hoping to win brownie points. Dairine rolls her eyes.

Nita leads the way to a back table. Sker’ is already seated. Roshaun slides in opposite him, Ronan on his other side, then Carmela. Kit takes a seat next to Sker’, Neets after him, Dairine taking the remaining seat. She’s literally the furthest person from Roshaun. 

They all place their orders and begin chatting. “Where’s Fil?” Dairine asks.

Carmela shrugs, “he wasn’t sure he could come. I’m sure if he can, he’ll be here, if a little late.” 

“How’s the chocolate business going, by the way?”

“Decently. We’ve purchased a storefront here in The Crossings, actually. Sker’ was nice enough to streamline the process for us,” ‘Mela lifts her voice at the end so everyone’s favorite friendly bug can hear. He extends an eye stalk in recognition. 

“We’ve also found some suppliers,” Ronan adds. 

“You need more than one?” Dairine asks.

“Of course. We’re trying to get the biggest variety we can manage. Gourmet, cheap, homemade, sweet, bitter. We’re also getting them from all the countries we can,” Carmela tells her. 

Dairine nods, impressed. ‘Mela is going to make a boatload of money, she has no doubt. It’s still something of a gamble, seeing as she’ll be giving up college, but then again Dairine can't really judge her on that aspect, as she has no intention of going to college herself. 

“We could use your help, actually,” Carmela tells her, “we need to create a computer system where customers can input a species name and it will show what specific chocolates are compatible with their biologies. Or if it’s compatible at all.”

Dairine thinks for a moment, “I should be able to do that. I assume you don’t need it right away?”

Ronan shakes his head, “you’ve got some time. We won’t need it until the store opens, obviously.” 

“And of course you’ll get a portion of the profits once the store is up and running,” ‘Mela adds. 

“How much are you planning on selling the chocolate for?” Dairine asks.

“Somewhere between three and four times above how much we pay for it,” Ronan says.

“Jeez.”

“It’ll still be worlds cheaper than the prices they’re used to,” ‘Mela grins.

Dairine shakes her head and steals a glance over at Roshaun. He’s staring at her, almost absentmindedly.  _ How’re you doing? _ She asks him.

She feels his mental sigh,  _ I miss you. _

_ I’m right here. _

He frowns at her.  _ I know, I know. But if one of your subjects happens to be here…  _

He gives her a wry smile, then turns to engage Sker’ in conversation. Their food arrives and Dairine busies herself by eating it. Nita and Kit are talking to Ronan about their latest mission, and ‘Mela is talking across the table to Sker’ and Roshaun. For this reason, Dairine is the only one to notice the tall man who comes up to their table. She knows instantly that the man is Wellakhit, and is incredibly glad they had taken the precautions they did.  _ Roshaun? Potential problem coming our way.  _

He looks up, his glance landing on the man. He stands with an all too familiar grace, and Dairine hides the sadness she’s sure is present in her eyes. The rest of the table stands as well. The Wellakhit man bows to Roshaun, and inclines his head to the rest of them. 

“Sunlord. It’s an honor,” the man greets Roshaun. 

“Likewise,” Roshaun greets, “I would make you known to Sker’ret, stationmaster and highly accomplished wizard, Nita hev ke Khallahan, highly accomplished wizard and intended planetary wizard. Her partner, Khit hev ke Rhodhriguez, also a wizard. His,” here Roshaun used a word that vaguely translated to pet, “was an incarnation of The One. I would also make you known to Rohnan hev ke Nolan, wizard and former host of The One’s Champion, and his,” another word Dairine could only loosely translate and classified as non-permanent object of romantic interest, “Kharmella hev ke Rhodhriguez. She’s a businesswoman.” Roshaun paused for a breath, “and of course you know Lady Dhairine hev ke Khallahan.” Dairine sinks into a Wellakhit curtsy.

“I have heard of you, yes,” the man greets, “the stories do not lie.”

_ Doubt that’s a good thing.  _ Dairine thinks to Roshaun. She then answers aloud, “it is my honor. I haven’t had the pleasure of being introduced to you yet, though.”

“I am called Teksul, your Ladyship.”

“Please, simply Dairine is all the title I need.” 

“Would you care to dine with us?” Roshaun asks, “we happen to have an empty seat.” 

Teksul ponders it for a moment. Dairine hopes his answer is no. 

“That would be most agreeable.”

“I’m afraid we have already begun eating,” Kit tells him, a little unsure how to proceed. 

“I am not offended. The invitation is honor enough among such distinguished individuals.” 

Everyone goes back to their seats, so that means Dairine is stuck across from Teksul. She suddenly feels out of place in her usual cargo pants. 

“So are you a wizard as well?” Carmela asks in The Speech.

“No. But our planet is obviously aware of their existence.”

“Ours is not. I am one of the exceptions to that rule, though,” Carmela tells him. 

_ This is an unexpected and unwelcome turn,  _ Roshaun groans.

_ No kidding,  _ Dairine agrees,  _ and you stuck him with me!  _

_ It was unavoidable.  _

_ I’m sure. _

_ Make sure Carmela doesn’t mention her chocolate business.  _

_...okay. Why? _

He turns away from her, and doesn’t respond. She is both pissed off and concerned.

“So why are you all here together?” Teksul asks Dairine.

“It’s both a reunion and business meeting. I’m not sure how familiar you are with wizards, but that is the usual with us. Nothing is ever simply for pleasure,” she explains. 

“I see. Is the purpose confidential?”

“Not to my knowledge. The Sunlord and Stationmaster had some specific transportation matters to go over, and then we all are assisting Carmela and Ronan in their plans to open up a business here.” 

“What kind of business?” Teksul asks. 

_ Answer vaguely! No chocolate! _ Dairine tells Ronan. 

“We are planning on selling goods from our home planet,” Ronan tells him.

“Interesting. Do you think you’ll turn a large profit?”

“That’s the hope,” ‘Mela says, gleam in her eye.

“That’s another reason we met here today. Sker’ret is helping us to secure a property that is ideally located. We also wanted to try and recruit Dairine for a job we needed done before we can open,” Ronan adds. 

“And we tried to persuade my brother to join our staff. He wasn’t interested,” ‘Mela flashes an irritated look to Kit. He ignores her, engaged in conversation with Roshaun and Sker’.

“The Sunlord is not involved in this venture?” Teksul asks.

“No. And neither is Nita,” Dairine clarifies. 

“What do you do on your planet, Teksul?” Neets asks. 

With that, he begins speaking about his job as a teacher. Dairine tunes the conversation out, focusing once more on consuming her meal. It’s not that she doesn’t love her friends, but it’s a rare occasion indeed when both she and Roshaun have free time, and here they are, spending it by being a tauntingly close five feet apart and unable to even look at each other because they came to a public place and happened to run into one of his subjects. Dairine glares down at her pasta-like dish. 

Soon enough, lunch is over and everyone is getting up. Dairine follows suit. Everyone says goodbye to Sker’ and Roshaun, being very careful to be very formal with Roshaun. Dairine thinks instructions to everyone, and makes sure Carmela goes close to last so she knows how to act. Dairine is the very last person, and she also does a formal parting gesture, curtsying and then taking both his hands in hers. That’s not strictly part of the routine, but Teksul doesn’t have to know that and Dairine hasn’t touched him once today, so she’s allowed one selfish moment. Their intertwined hands meet in the middle to make two pairs, and then Dairine pulls hers away. Roshaun takes it all in stride.

“Go well, Lady Dairine,” he says, bringing their interaction back to strictly professional. 

“Go well, Sunlord,” she returns. 

She waits until Roshaun and Teksul are out of sight, bound for Wellakh before speaking, “let’s go.” 

  
  
  
  



	3. 3. Roshaun's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment in Roshaun's room is interrupted by a servant, much to the dismay of both Dairine and Roshaun.

Dairine was sitting crossed legged on Roshaun’s bed, tracing his collarbone with a finger. He, in turn, had a hand resting over her heart. He’d probably already noticed it wasn’t beating anywhere near normally, but he didn’t comment on it. It was a weirdly intimate moment. Roshaun opened his mouth, as if to say something, but promptly closed it. Since he had already disturbed the peace, Dairine let her hand fall and sat up a little straighter, tangling the fingers of her other hand with his hand that had been resting over her heart. 

She sits quietly for a moment, waiting for him to decide whether or not he was going to speak. It didn’t seem like he was going to, so she brushed the lock of hair that had fallen in front of his face behind his ear. He studied her intently, and she knew him well enough to know he was thinking, and whatever it was he was thinking about scared him. She had an idea of what it might be, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one who suggested it. Instead, she ran her free hand through his hair. 

“Dairine?” He asks, voice a murmur.

Her breath catches and she’s not quite sure why, “yeah?” 

There is a sudden loud knock on the door. It startles the both of them and they spring apart. Dairine nimbly jumps off the bed, calls for Spot in her mind, and sits on the couch, pulling a couple random papers from her claudication. She spreads them out around her as quietly as possible while Roshaun straightens the bedsheets quickly and goes up to get the door. By the time he opens the door, Dairine is busy typing out a message to Nita about when she’ll be home, cementing her illusion of being busy working. 

“Hello,” Roshaun greets politely. 

Dairine glances up, smiling at the woman at the door. It’s a middle aged female servant. 

“I am so sorry Sunlord, I was not aware you had company,” the servant says. 

“Please don’t trouble yourself. We were only discussing some business,” Dairine says kindly, meaning business in a different sense than the woman will assume. It’s a wonder her voice doesn’t shake. She feels weirdly hyped on adrenaline.

“I’ll come back later,” the servant says.

“That’s not necessary. Nothing we will discuss will be confidential,” Roshaun assures the servant. He then takes a seat across from Dairine. 

“Anyways, as I was saying, I don’t know that the Celebration of Wellakh is an event I should attend.”

“I know it may be controversial, but it coincides with the period of time where Thahit is going to be most unstable, so you should really be here to assist in an intervention should it become necessary,” Roshaun argues, switching to be being completely professional with ease.

Dairine pauses for a moment, considering his words, “well there’s no reason I can’t be here and just not attend the celebration.” 

Roshaun pauses too, “theoretically that’s an option, but what kind of message does that send? A visiting wizard ambassador not being invited to an event?”

“Perhaps you could extend an invitation, but I would politely decline? No, no, that would seem rude. I just don’t feel right crashing a celebration of Wellakh and being Wellakhit since I’m not from here.” 

“No, you’re right. The people won’t like it very much.”

Dairine sighs, “so we’re back at square one.”

“Square one?”

“An expression. We’re back to where we started at the beginning of this exhausting conversation.” 

“Perhaps we simply do nothing?” 

“What do you mean?” Dairine asks. 

“I won’t invite you, and we hope that Thahit remains stable. Should I see any worrying signs, I will call you in last minute. You won’t have time to prepare for a formal event, so you won’t be expected to attend!”

Dairine ponders his solution for a moment, “that’s not half bad. The Powers willing, Thahit will be fine and it won’t even matter.” 

Roshaun nods. 

“Okay, that’s all the upcoming festivals, celebrations, and dinners that Lady Miril knew about. I should probably get going now.” 

Roshaun very briefly glanced to where the servant was still cleaning, “yes. I shall see you again at the Golden Ball, or perhaps sooner should I run into you after you’ve been training with my father.” 

“I think we are supposed to have a session next week, so if you attend as well, then I shall see you then.” 

“Go well.”

Dairine curtsies to him, annoyed that she hasn’t gotten to properly say goodbye to her boyfriend in like four weeks. She sees herself out, still wondering what he was going to say to her and wishing desperately that they hadn’t been interrupted. She makes her way to where the worldgate is, and, with one last wishful look in the direction of Roshaun’s rooms, steps through. 

  
  
  
  



	4. 4. At the Burger Joint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dairine has a meeting with a school friend and Roshaun tags along.

Dairine is sitting alone at a booth in Box Burgers, waiting for Roshaun to come back with the milkshake she had ordered when Kylie slips into the seat across from her. Dairine mentally sighs. Kylie is her partner on their summer science project, and Dairine agreed to meet her here to plan, but she had been hoping she wouldn’t show up. After all, summer only just started. 

“Hey,” Kylie greets.

Dairine pulls out Spot, “hi.”

“So I’m not sure what you wanted to do for this project, but the guidelines aren’t too strict, so I wanted to do something other than what everyone always does.”

Dairine nodded. That was refreshing at least, “I have a penchant for microcultures myself, but if that’s not something that you’d be interested in we don’t have to do that.” 

Kylie nods, “no, that could be cool if we do it right.” 

“Do what right?” Roshaun asks, sliding in next to Dairine gracefully, and placing the milkshake in front of her.

“Our science experiment. Kylie, this is Roshaun, Roshaun, my project partner, Kylie.”

Roshaun nods to her, “well met,” he says it in the speech, so Kylie will understand, “I pity you. No one should have the misfortune of having to work with Dairine on a regular basis.”

She elbows him in the stomach, “speak for yourself. You’re at least twice as bad as me.”

Kylie looks between the two of them, “are you guys dating or something?”

Dairine laughs at that, surprised at how quickly Kylie caught on. “There’s only one relationship involving Roshaun, and it’s between him and his ego.” 

Roshaun gives her a superior frown, “and Dairine is something of a solo act.”

“Touché.”

Kylie looks between them again, but this time she seems convinced, “well good because I was wondering about the age difference.”

Dairine sighs, “ _ why _ does everyone get caught up on that! He’s only about two years older than me!”

Roshaun looks down at her, “it’s simply because you’re so short.”

“Wow. I would’ve guessed like 5-7 year difference,” Kylie admits.

Dairine says nothing, instead she glares and angrily sips her milkshake.

“Um anyway, microcultures. What should we do with them?” Kylie asks timidly.

Dairine shrugs, “I’m not picky.”

“She is most assuredly picky,” Roshaun chimes in.

“Nobody asked you,” Dairine points out, “in fact I didn’t even invite you to come here.”

“Okay, I’m curious. How’d you guys meet?” Kylie asks.

Dairine glares at her boyfriend, “he stayed with my family for a brief time. Now he just shows up randomly and expects me to include him in whatever I’m doing that day.”

Roshaun shrugs, “if you really minded I wouldn’t be here.”

Dairine raises an eyebrow at him, “you’re only here because you bought me a milkshake.”

“Whatever you say,” he says skeptically.

“ _ Anyway _ , back to the microcultures. What kind of organisms do you want to isolate and experiment on?”

“My Dad is a researcher at a cancer facility. He may be able to get us in and give us some cells to experiment on. I have no idea if that’s something the company allows, though,” Kylie tells her.

“Alright. Well if that plan fails, I know where to get access to some bacteria.” 

“Okay. Should we manipulate the environment or the cells themselves?”

“Completely up to you. Hey!” Roshaun had stolen her milkshake and was drinking it, “I’ll remind you that that was a gift from you to me for my kindness and willingness to accommodate you on such short notice.”

Roshaun shrugs, “it’s going to melt if you just leave it there.”

“You’re buying me another one,” she argues.

He doesn’t seem to care, so she just rolls her eyes and turns back to Kylie. They work with minimal comments from the peanut gallery, and as a reward, Dairine interlaces her fingers with his under the table. On Earth, they don’t need to be as careful. After all, the distance is only to keep people from asking too many questions about Dairine and not as much of a life or death situation. Mostly the only worry would be that people would start suspecting he was the reason she was missing so much school and start looking a little too close, which they obviously couldn’t have. She gives him a half smile as she looks up from the simulation she’s created with Kylie on Spot. 

_ Do you actually want another milkshake? _

_ Yes! You drank half of mine.  _

“I’m going to go get another milkshake for Dairine. Would you like one?” He asks Kylie. 

“Um sure. A small chocolate.” A very very odd look crosses Roshaun’s face but he doesn’t say anything. 

“And you, Dairine?” He asks.

“Whatever you want. I assume you have money?”

“Indeed.”

With that, he stands and makes his way to the counter. Dairine’s eyes follow him as he goes, resting perhaps just a bit too long. She turns back to Kylie and forces a smile. They get back to work on their simulation. Roshaun returns with the milkshakes, setting them down on the table. Dairine notices how he does not actually hand Kylie the milkshake and seems to be trying to touch it as little as possible. She keeps forgetting to ask about that. 

“What is it with you and chocolate anyway?” She asks, figuring she’ll forget if she doesn’t do it now.

To her surprise he actually blushes, “not now,” he says in Kings Speech. 

She raises a brow at him, answering back in the same tongue, “what is it?” 

“Just a cultural difference,” he responds evasively. 

Kylie stares at the two of them, “okay,  _ what _ language was that?!?”

Roshaun sighs, “my native tongue. You wouldn’t know it.”

“Then how do you?” She asks Dairine.

“Roshaun’s been teaching me. I’m afraid I still have a lot to learn, but I’ve been trying my best.” 

“It’s only thanks to you having such an apt teacher that you’ve done so well so far,” Roshaun teases.

“Oh, you must mean your mother! She’s been an angel, yes,” Dairine teases back.

He glares at her and swipes the milkshake. At this point, they’ve given up on the project and are just drinking the milkshakes. It’s not as though they can do too much before they get cells anyway. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before Roshaun suddenly sits up straight. 

“I have to go,” he announces. 

She reads all the meaning behind the statement from his face, “go well.”

He briefly caresses her face, and before his hand drops, she catches it, “be careful, okay?”

He smirks at her, “aren’t I always?”

“If always means never,” she gives him a meaningful look, “if you need me, call and I’ll be there.”

He gives her a look. 

“I mean it,” she switches into King’s Speech, “if you’re throwing yourself into any kind of danger, I’m coming.”

He makes his no gesture, “if there’s any kind of danger, you’re staying as far away as I can keep you.” 

She glares at him, “I mean it, Rho,” she mutters softly, “we’re partners for a reason. We work better together.”

“It’s likely a routine disturbance.”

“But if it isn’t-”

“If it isn’t I’ll tell you.”

“Good. See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

With that, Roshaun throws her one last glance and leaves the restaurant. Dairine listens intently for the bang of displaced air, but Roshaun’s too good. She pushes down the wave of sadness, and takes her seat once more. She immediately begins going over the diagram, trying to give off an air of being completely unaffected. 

“Okay. What was that?” Kylie asks.

“Roshaun had to leave. His line of work is...dangerous.”

“I thought you said you weren’t dating?”

“I would think I would know if I was,” Dairine points out. Clearly they weren’t doing a good enough job of hiding it. 

“Well all I’ll say is that several of my exes could take notes. I’d love to not be in a relationship if that’s what it looks like,” Kylie says.

Dairine sighs, “listen. There’s a reason no one at school has ever seen or heard of Roshaun. I mentioned his line of work is dangerous and I wasn’t kidding. If the wrong person hears that Roshaun and I are anything more than acquaintances… there’s potentially a heavy price to pay. And that’s why we can’t be anything more than that.” Dairine ends her speech, studying Kylie’s face. She seems convinced. 

“What does he  _ do? _ ” Kylie asks.

“I have no idea,” Dairine says, mostly truthfully. She has no clue what his day to day tasks are. 

“What? How can you not know?” 

“I told you. We aren’t supposed to be anything but acquaintances,” Dairine tells her, honesty ringing through.

“But you know his language! You’ve met his mom!” 

“Just please drop it,” Dairine hisses, “right now, my main priority is this project, so can we please get back to it?” 

Kylie shrugs, but her eyes are still swimming with questions. 

Later that night, after Roshaun is home safe from dealing with peasant revolts, Dairine sends him a message about how he owes her for managing to convince her human friend that they weren’t a couple with minimal lies and half-truths. 

  
  
  
  



	5. 5. The Golden Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited Golden Ball has arrived, and Dairine is expected to attend...without Roshaun. On the plus side, she does get to hang out with Lady Miril while getting ready.

Dairine arrives early to the palace, having been warned that the process for getting ready would be extensive. She is greeted by Lady Miril, who leads her to a large dressing room. Dairine had been fitted some two weeks previous for this occasion, and she’d been learning to dance how Wellakhit did. Lady Miril had been coming over two to three times a week and teaching her. This would be her first Wellakhit ball and she had been warned that it was far more formal and important than the couple dinners she had attended thus far. 

“I took the liberty of having some undergarments made for you. You’ll need a specific kind for this dress, and I wasn’t sure if you had them or not.”

Dairine tries not to groan, “I’m sure I don’t. Thank you.”

Miril floats over to a dresser, where she picks up what Dairine assumes is said undergarments. “I’ll let you change into them in privacy,” Miril tells her, and gracefully exits the room. 

Dairine looks down at what’s in her hands and doesn’t bother to suppress the groan this time. The underwear look safe enough, but the bra is something else entirely. It seems to be the Wellakhit equivalent of a push up bra, and looks dreadfully uncomfortable. Dairine sucks it up and puts the thing on though. Once she’s wearing the lingerie, because lingerie is really the best word to describe the pieces, she calls Miril in, feeling dreadfully exposed. Miril spares her a half seconds glance.

“Perfect! They fit beautifully! I’ll call in the servants now!”

Dairine splutters in protest, but Miril either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care. It’s times like this that Dairine thinks Miril needs a daughter of her own. Maybe then she’d be less enthusiastic about dressing Dairine. 

To Dairine’s complete and absolute horror, the servants bring in an article of clothing that can only be described as a corset. Before she even has time to protest, they are putting it on her and then tightening it, so that even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to say anything. Once they’re done lacing it up, Dairine tries to breathe. It’s more difficult than it should be. 

Almost before she can process, the servants are bringing out the dress. It’s a dark black, matching the corset and undergarments she’s already wearing. 

“I thought this was a Golden Ball?” Dairine asks.

“It is,” Miril confirms, “but the Golden Ball is a celebration of life and love. Only unionbonded couples wear gold. Non-unionbonded Wellakhit wear black so that it is easier to find one another. It’s typically a ball for debutants.”

“Is that what I’m meant to be?”

“Essentially. We won’t be presenting you so that you may find an eligible bachelor, but we will be presenting you to Wellakh officially. You’ll have photos done, and they’ll be sent out to Wellakhit with the photos of the rest of the nobles and influential people. The Golden Ball is also the official day for all the nobles and other influentials to have photos taken. It was originally intended to help make the palace more transparent and also give rich citizens an opportunity to scope out the young single nobility so they may arrange unionbonds.”

“You still do arranged marriage?”

“To an extent, yes. Very rarely do couples unionbond without at least feeling some sort of attraction, though. Nelaid and I were what we would call a pushed couple.”

Dairine nods in understanding. 

While Dairine and Miril had been talking, the servants had been standing respectfully off to the side, but now they came up and began helping Dairine into the layered fabrics of the dress. Despite herself, Dairine instantly loves the dress. It’s easily the most beautiful and most expensive thing she’s ever worn. The whole dress is a fabric closest to earthen velvet, except lighter and not quite as fuzzy. The bottom half is bejeweled, and there is a sash around the middle covered completely in little gemstones. The top of the dress is plain, but the bodice is lined with the little gemstones. The dress technically had sleeves, but they rested halfway between her shoulder and elbow, so it was effectively sleeveless. 

“So what would people who are in relationships but not unionbonded wear?” Dairine asks.

“A mix of both colors. The outfit would be predominantly black, but with gold accessories. For example, you would have a gold sash, the gemstones would be gold, and all the rest of your accessories like your gloves, bracelet, shoes and headpiece would also be gold.”

“Huh.”

“Why? Are you in such a relationship?” Miril asks, her eyes gleaming. 

“Lady Miril! Do not insult me by insinuating I wouldn’t tell you!” Dairine jokes, smiling at the private bit of humor. 

“Well that’s good. No need to change the dress up last minute,” Miril jokes back. It also serves to mediate gossip about Dairine and Roshaun, joking in this way. The servants will be convinced that Dairine is not in a relationship, or at the very least won’t have proof she’s in one with Roshaun. 

Dairine fully intended to respond, but at that moment, two servants pulled tightly on the sash and momentarily cut off her air supply. Then all the servants began hurrying about, fixing this or that on the dress. Once they were satisfied, they moved on to Miril. Her dress was a brilliant gold, and looked far more complicated than Dairine’s. 

Despite being a lot more involved than Dairine’s dress, it didn’t take too long for Miril to get dressed. Of course, she had already been wearing the corset. Once Miril is dressed, they are ushered into a room for hair and makeup. For the previous formal stuff Dairine has attended, Carmela has done her makeup and hair. This doesn’t seem to be like the rest of the formal events, though. 

“It’s so refreshing to have another female around,” Lady Miril tells her as they are getting their hair done. 

“Do you have this done before all the formal events?”

“Usually. Not all the events require such extensive preparation, but part of being royalty is putting on a performance. We have to look perfect, because everyone always looks for a flaw.”

“And I have to look...perfect too?”

“The closer to it, the better. So far the people have only seen you from a distance. They already find fault in you simply for not being Wellakhit.”

“Joy,” Dairine mutters sarcastically. 

“I have no doubt that you’ll win them over, though. You are a very capable and formidable wizard. Our planet needs more allies like you,” Miril reassures her. 

They spend the rest of the seemingly endless time it takes to get their hair done talking about everything and nothing, at least in terms of what the servants can hear, and Dairine once more makes the painful connection between Miril and her mom. She’s ever so grateful for the role Miril plays in her life, and considers her like a mother, but she’ll never be able to fill the Betty Callahan shaped hole in Dairine’s life.

Almost as if she knew the direction Dairine’s thoughts were trending in, Miril smiled kindly over at her. Dairine returned the gesture in kind as best she could, what with the makeup artists bustling about her face. 

After what seems like ages, the servants are finally done. Miril is excited, “time for the big reveal!” Dairine hadn’t been allowed to see herself up to this point. 

“I have to admit, I’m a little nervous,” Dairine tells her.

“There’s no reason to be, tekeh,” Miril assures her.

“Still,” Dairine shrugs, “before coming here, the most dressed up I’d ever been was in a sundress for Easter.”

Miril sends her an amused smile, “cultural differences.”

“No kidding.”

  
  


Dairine turns to look at herself in the mirror the servants brought out. She’s doesn’t actually look too different. The makeup isn’t too heavy, and only accentuates features she already has. The dark eyeshadow and eyeliner give her a smokey and mysterious look, which she likes. Her cheekbones are well defined, and her jawline is sharper than usual, but she finds she actually doesn’t mind too much. Her hair is up in some sort of complicated looking braided crown, save for a strand hanging down in front of either ear. The braid itself has more of the black gemstones woven in. 

“Wow,” she said. Even the dress hung perfectly. The corset had slimmed her already small figure, but she just as soon would’ve ditched it. She was immensely thankful that corsets were no longer popular wardrobe items on earth. If she hadn’t been so uncomfortable, she would have loved the dress. 

“Do you like it?”

Dairine considers this, “yes. I just wish I could breathe.”

Lady Miril makes a sympathetic gesture, “I hear you. I’m afraid our fashion sense is rather outdated for your people, at least from what I’ve seen.”

Dairine nods, “wearing something like this would be a novelty at home, not commonplace.” 

“As I thought,” Miril says, dismissing and thanking the servants while handing Dairine a pair of long black gloves. Dairine echos her thanks, and turns to examine herself in the mirror once more, pulling on the gloves.

Just then, the doors burst open and Nita comes rushing in. “Oh I hope we’re not too late!” 

“I’m sorry, what are you doing here?” Dairine asks Nita, seeing Kit come in after her sister. Honestly he was like a lovesick puppy. 

“I invited your sister. I thought she might want to see you all dressed up  _ before _ the effect gets ruined by the ball.”

“It happens rarely enough,” Nita justifies. 

Dairine rolls her eyes, “and of course El Niño has to tag along.”

Nita snickers.

“Watch it, Runt,” Kit shoots back, “I’m older than you.”

Dairine raises an eyebrow, “in years, maybe. Clearly not in maturity.”

“ _ Anyways, _ ” Nita intercedes, “you look beautiful Dari. Really, you do.” 

“Roshaun’s going to fall right off his throne,” Kit adds.

Dairine glares at him, “the only reason I’m not pushing you off the closest balcony right now is because my sister is inexplicably fond of you and it would speed up entropy.” 

“You do look especially lovely, tekeh,” Lady Miril compliments her.

“How come everyone but you can be nice?” Dairine asks Kit.

Kit shrugs, “because I’m practically your older brother. Isn’t it my job to tease you?”

“Whatever, El Niño.”

“If you’re ready, Dairine, we should get going,” Miril tells her.

“Already?” Dairine asks.

“You left home like five hours ago, Dair,” Nita tells her.

“Oh.”

“But before you go,” Nita holds up a camera, “I promised dad.”

Dairine rolls her eyes, “they’re taking some fancy photos at the thing.”

“Yeah, but just in case.”

Dairine rolls her eyes, but complies. After all, it  _ is _ a rare occasion she’s not in cargos. At least, on Earth it is. 

Nita takes several photos, and even gets some with Lady Miril. 

“Are you done?” Dairine finally asks.

“Yes,” Nita replies glibly. 

“Okay. See you tonight or possibly tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

Once Nita and Kit leave, Lady Miril turns to her, “I will not be able to be with you as you enter the ballroom, so listen well, tekeh. There will be a line of Wellakhita,” Lady Miril says, specifically using the female version of Wellakhit, “stand in line with them. If they talk to you, answer politely, otherwise do not speak. You’ll go into a room one at a time for portraits. The portrait taker will likely position you, but should he not, simply clasp your hands in front of you,” Miril demonstrates, “once your portrait has been taken, you’ll go through to a waiting room. Should one of the men ask you to walk in with them, accept. You’ll come in doing the  _ qulli  _ dance we practiced. Should no one ask you, simply come in near to last and stand off to the sides of the ballroom. Once the dance is over, you will approach the throne and bow to Roshaun, Nelaid, and I. If you had a partner, you will go up with him, otherwise you will come up alone. The rest of the dancing will be variations on the  _ khulleg _ , which you also practiced with me. Should no one ask you to dance all night, which I rather doubt, then Nelaid will come for you.” 

“Okay, yeah. I got this,” Dairine says, not quite sure who she’s convincing. 

“Good luck, tekeh,” Miril says.

“Thanks. You too.”

With that, Dairine heads off to where she knows the ballroom is. Her feet already hurt from the heels, an unfortunate necessity so that she may blend in more. She finds the line of women easily enough. Everyone stares at her, but no one says anything. She sighs to herself. The couple of dinners she’d been to had been somewhat limited in company, only the most important nobles. Of course she was going to be the topic of everyone’s conversation tonight, almost none of these people had ever really seen her and she was notorious, the subject of all kinds of rumors and stories. Everyone wanted to meet the alien girl who had charmed the famously uncharmable king. Even aside from the rumors of romance and conquest, people were shocked that anyone had managed to crack the stony exterior that was Roshaun. Dairine sighed again. 

She examined the people around her. About half of them wore brilliant gold, signifying they were married. Or unionbonded she supposed. Of those remaining, the majority had gold accents as well. Only the younger girls and people Dairine guessed were around her age wore black. It seemed that unionbond was very highly valued. 

Finally, and nowhere near soon enough, Dairine entered the small photography room. As Miril predicted, they positioned her and gave her instructions on exactly how to stand. Dairine faced the camera thing with an icy gaze, her lips tight. There was no flash, which was good because she had a terrible tendency to blink, which would have ruined the effect. 

Once she was done, she stepped into the waiting room. The first thing she noticed was how many more males there were. She wouldn’t have been surprised if there were twice as many male Wellakhit as female in the room. She wondered if that applied to the whole planet or simply the nobility. Regardless, it was concerning. At least she understood why Miril said it was highly unlikely that she would not be asked to dance. 

Indeed, not more than a few moments later, a boy approached her. He was in all black, as she was. He bowed to her, “my name is Virig, and I would be honored to escort you to the ballroom this evening.” 

“The honor is mine, Virig. I’m Dairine Callahan,” she said with little emotion.

“I know,” he said, nearly smug. Dairine already found herself getting annoyed. 

“Are you a wizard, Virig?” Dairine asked, trying to gauge how much he would know about her relationship with Roshaun. A wizard might know that they were partners. 

“No. But I know you are,” he answers. Dairine resists the very strong urge to slug him. 

She raises a brow, “indeed.”

Everyone in the surrounding area was listening to the conversation, though they were acting as though they weren’t. Dairine had a brief moment of panic. What if she was doing it wrong? Offend the wrong person or accidentally say something wrong and Roshaun might be harmed. 

_ You’re doing fine.  _ Roshaun’s voice comes through her mind.  _ Remarkably well, considering it’s your first time facing the aloomm. Just breathe. _

Dairine takes a breath like Roshaun told her, smiling internally at his metaphor for the nobles.  _ Thanks.  _

_ Anytime. _ She can feel the smirk that comes with the word, and suddenly desperately misses him. She’s sure he catches the emotion, but he keeps quiet. She can feel his own longing anyway. There’s no need to voice it. 

She turns her attention back to Virig, “it seems as though we should line up.” She’s referring to the fact that people have begun lining up in front of the doors. Probably because Roshaun’s in the other room now. 

“Yes. I should teach you how to  _ qulli _ before we go in,” he says.

“Thank you. I already know,” Dairine responds, outwardly seeming matter of fact and indifferent, but inwardly smug. 

_ You were right. All those excruciating dance lessons were worth it _ , she concedes to Roshaun.

_ Very rarely am I wrong. _

_ Debatable.  _

“So you have experience with stars?”

Dairine hesitates, “yes.”

“Have you been working with Thahit?” The whole room was listening. No one was speaking anymore.

“No.” And she hadn’t, at least not the real star, which in her mind was the only thing that counted.

“Do you have intentions of working with Thahit?”

“With all due respect, I hope the occasion never arises where that would be necessary as it would mean both that Thahit was unstable and that the greatly esteemed Sunlord was rendered incapable,” Dairine says, adding a touch of reverence to Sunlord, but otherwise keeping her voice measured, “but as a wizard, should something go terribly wrong with your star and there be no more qualified wizard willing and able to intervene, I would of course protect this planet from harm or die trying.” 

_ Was that too far?  _ She asks Roshaun, worries at the shocked faces.

_ No, it was very convincing.  _

“Any other questions?” Dairine asks Virig, a touch unkind.

“Plenty. But they can wait until the dancing. The doors are opening now.” 

Dairine groans internally at the idea of continued questioning, still, she walks through the doors with her head held high, grateful for the heels, as uncomfortable as they were, as she’s only a bit shorter than most people in the room. The music starts once everyone is in the room, and everyone with a partner begins dancing. Dairine is surprised and happy to note that she is far from being the worst dancer in the room. 

_ You look beautiful.  _

Dairine misses a step. She resists the urge to glare up at him. She feels rather than sees him up on the elevated platform. She hasn’t dared to even look his way because she knows everyone is expecting her to. She can picture the superior look on his face anyway. 

The dance ends without any significant incidents, and Dairine delicately takes the hand Virig offers. She is finally able to look up to where her boyfriend is sitting, as now literally everyone is looking there, being in line to greet him. She bites her lip to keep from smiling. He’s actually wearing a crown. An honest to god gold crown. She works very hard to keep her face impassive, but internally she’s dying of laughter. 

Soon enough, she and Virig reach Roshaun, Miril, and Nelaid. Dairine sinks into a deep curtsy. Next to her, Virig bows. 

_ Introduce him to me,  _ Roshaun tells her.

She’s grateful for the cue, “most esteemed Sunlord I present to you, my companion, Virig…” she cuts off unsure of his last name.

“Virig ke Gughest ke Yili.”

“Virig you are most honored to meet the most esteemed Sunlord, Roshaun ke Nelaid am Seriv am Teliuyve am Meseph am Veliz am Teriaunst am det Nuiiliat am det Wellakhit am me'stardet Wellakhir.” 

_ That was...very eloquent.  _ Roshaun almost sounds surprised.

_ You doubted me? _

“Sunlord, it is a great honor,” Virig says.

Roshaun inclines his head, “it’s a pleasure. Lady Dhairine, Wellakh, as always, welcomes you.”

_ Does it now? _

_ It’s king does.  _

“Many thanks.” 

_ I was thinking of going to Earth when this ends...I will have the day off tomorrow as no one is expected to work after a festival.  _

_ Okay. I’ll be waiting then.  _

They bow once more and move to the dance floor where people are already dancing. She dances two more songs with the insufferable Virig before another curious Wellakhit claims her hand. She answers all of the questions with the best non-answers she can come up with. For example:

“What do you say to the rumors about a romantic relationship between you and The Sunlord?”

“I would think my outfit speaks to those.”

“How did you meet The Sunlord?”

“Through wizardry.”

“What is your business with Wellakh?”

“I rescued its King.”

“What is your role at the palace?”

“I serve as an ambassador from my planet.”

And many, many, many more questions, all of which she answered in Kings Speech, which most of the people seemed impressed by starting out, but by the end of the night it was old news that the alien knew how to speak like them. After all, she’d been careful to speak in nothing else all night. 

Finally, towards the very end she ends up standing off to the side in a group of noblewomen. “You certainly are like our young king,” one of the ladies tells her. 

Dairine bows lightly, “a high honor indeed,” she says, though she doubts it’s a compliment. 

“I only mean, you’ve not smiled or shown any kind of emotion all night,” the lady clarifies, “and I saw you danced with Borhys, who I can practically smell from here. Yet, you never once showed any sign of discomfort.” 

Dairine isn’t quite sure how to respond, “perhaps he bathed.”

All the ladies laugh at that, which worries Dairine greatly. 

“Borhys never bathes,” one of the ladies whispers, as if sharing a secret.

Truthfully, Dairine hadn’t noticed anyone smelling. Perhaps he smelled of a scent her body couldn’t detect, or her senses were simply not strong enough. She figured the most likely scenario was that she was so overwhelmed/nervous/pissed off that she simply didn’t notice, though. She was saved from having to respond by another Wellakhit coming up to offer his hand in a dance. 

“Well met, ladies,” Dairine says, curtsying and leaving, holding the hand of her savior lightly. 

Unbeknownst to the ladies, however, she could still hear them. She had decided to amplify their voices using a small wizardry. 

“I can see why he likes her. She’s very pretty and cold enough for even our icy sun king.”

“Great. So soon we’ll have an ice queen  _ and  _ an ice king.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I don’t know. I’m still not convinced they’re involved. No one has found any proof. I’ve bribed servants. None of them has even heard them speak in anything but proper terms or seen them closer than a quuidd.” 

“And that one man I found who met them at the Crossings said that before he even arrived, they were the furthest from each other at the table. And there were other couples there.”

“Not to mention, they haven’t even so much as looked each other’s way tonight.”

“I think they’re just good at hiding it.”

“She has a point, I mean why else would she be here and so privileged?”

“Well at least she’s smart. And a wizard. She may be alien and icy, but she’s better than Ghrej.”

“Can you imagine?”

“Ghrej outranking us.” 

Dairine assumed a whole lot of alien shuddering was going on, and it seemed as though the conversation was drawing to a close so she dropped the spell. The song drew to a close not too soon after, and a new boy took her hand. 

_ This is the last dance,  _ Miril thinks to her,  _ do the same dance you did on the way in, only opposite. _

_ Got it. Thanks. _

Then to Roshaun,  _ see you later. _

_ I’ll be there as soon as I am able. _

_ Want me to wait for you?  _ She asks.

_ No. I’m not sure how long it will take.  _

_ Okay. _

_ I forgot to mention, you can just go home after you’re done. You can keep the dress.  _ Lady Miril informs her.

_ Are you sure? I am happy to return it. I don’t know much about dresses, but it looks expensive. _

_ Think of it as a thank you gift for dealing with all the nosy Wellakhit.  _

_ Alright. If you’re sure. _

She dances through the doorway with her partner, relieved when they cross through and go their separate ways, Dairine out the Wellakhita doorway, him out the opposite. Dairine steps into an aircar, listing the private transportation room as her destination. She leans back against the seat as the aircar flies away, utterly exhausted and happy to be off her feet, which she’s worried may never be the same. The trip doesn’t take nearly enough time, and she alights from the aircar, thanking the servant. The moment she’s alone, she takes off the heels. Her feet weep with joy. 

She hobbles over to the worldgate she knows comes out into her dad’s flower shop and steps through. Once on the other side, she disables the alarm, and walks through the shop. She briefly considers simply doing the beam me up wizardry, but she’s so tired she’s worried she’ll mess it up. She resolves to walk back to the house. She resets the alarm and then starts on her way. 

The walk back is longer than she remembers, probably since her feet are barely functional. The exhaustion has really hit her, too, the adrenaline from the Ball completely worn off. And what a terrible occasion that was. Forced to be indifferent about everything, barely even looking at Roshaun even though he was literally right there. 

She enters the house as quietly as possible, and tiptoes up to her room. Her first order of business is undoing her hair. She knows that if she doesn’t do it now, she probably won’t and then it’ll be a mess later. Once she’s done, she sits on the bed, intending to take off the dress, but her eyes close almost involuntarily, and she lays back and welcomes the darkness. 

  
  
  
  



	6. +1 And One Time They Didn’t Have To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nita and Kit rent a cabin in Colorado for the night, and Dairine and Roshaun finally find time to relax - together.

Dairine wakes up slowly to sunshine streaming in her window from underneath the blinds. She yawns, still exhausted, and it takes her a moment to remember why she is waking up so late. Then she remembers stumbling home at four a.m. after the Golden Ball. She must have fallen asleep. Then she finally notices the weight draped over her midsection, and realizes that Roshaun is laying next to her and has an arm over her. He must have felt her moving because he stirs lightly and his eyes blink open. Dairine smiles up at him and snuggles closer. He tightens his hold on her.

“Good morning,” she whispers.  
“Good morning,” he whispers back, voice scratchy with sleep.  
Dairine is surprised to realize she wants to wake up like this everyday from now on.  
“I did not intend to fall asleep,” Roshaun begins to defend himself, “I simply came in and saw you sleeping here and was going to wait for you to wake.”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Dairine tells him, “I don’t mind.” To prove her point, she snakes an arm around him.  
“You might want to change,” Roshaun tells her, “that’s not the most comfortable ensemble.”  
Dairine looks down. She’s still wearing the dress. “Oh!” And now that he’s pointed it out to her, her ribs are aching from the corset.

She stands somewhat reluctantly, and begins shimmying out of the dress. Roshaun stares at her. She grabs the closest pillow and throws it at him. He laughs and sits up. She steps into the closet and pulls off the dress, hanging it up. She then tries to undo the corset with little luck. Even her most daring of contortions render her unable to reach the strings. Apparently one needs assistance to both put on and take off a corset. Before she can talk herself out of it, Dairine steps out of the closet.

“Could you help me?” she asks, keeping most of the nerves from her voice.  
Roshaun doesn’t answer her verbally, instead inclining his head.

Dairine crosses the room swiftly and sits in front of him on the bed. He pauses a moment, then lifts his hands to the strings and begins untying them. Once he reaches the bottom, he rests his hands briefly on the now exposed skin. The coolness of his fingers sends a shiver through her. He either doesn’t notice or simply ignores the shiver, and lifts the fabric above her head. For a beat, neither of them moves, then Dairine spins around to face him. He keeps his eyes trained pointedly on her face, which makes her smile a little.

“How are you doing after last night? I know your feet hurt from your shoes. And the people, I caught some of what they were saying. No one asked anything too personal, though? Because if they did-”  
“Roshaun,” she cuts him off, “I’m fine.”  
“Truly, if it was too much, you don’t ever have to go to another one. I’m certain we can figure out a way around and-”  
He’s nervous rambling which is kind of cute, but she cuts him off anyway, “Roshaun?”  
“Yes?”  
“Shut up.”  
He opens his mouth as if to protest, so she closes the distance between them and seals her lips over his. He pulls back first.  
“I’m not joking, Dari. If you aren’t ready for public appearances yet, you don’t have to do them. My parents haven’t sent out your portrait yet.”  
She sighs, “I’m not joking either. I’m fine. Better than fine because for the first time in like four weeks we’re alone. Now can you please shut up and kiss me.”  
He smirks at her, but obeys only too willingly.

This time, it’s Dairine who breaks the contact. “This is a little unfair you know.”  
He looks confused, “what do you mean?”  
“I mean I’m just in a bra and you’re fully clothed.”  
Roshaun raises an eyebrow at her, tugging off his floppy T-Shirt, “better?”  
She smirks at him, taking a hand and lightly tracing over his abs, “yes.”  
She pauses for a moment, "I like to be able to touch you." She moved her hand to over his heart, "it reminds me that all of this is really real."  
Roshaun hesitates a moment, reaching a hand out, "may I?"  
She nods, not quite trusting her voice.  
Roshaun traces over her collarbone, then lets his hand slide down her back, and pulls her closer.  
“You’re beautiful, Dairine Callahan,” he whispers.  
“You’re not so bad yourself.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”

Their lips meet again, and Dairine threads her fingers through his hair. She’s barely conscious of his hands moving up to play with the band of her bra. Somehow they end up laying down, legs intertwined. Her skin feels like it’s on fire everywhere she’s touching his, and even though he runs warmer than her, she somehow doubts it’s just that. Whatever the reason, she doesn’t care. She would happily stay exactly where she is right now for the rest of the day.

As is the norm with her life, she does not get her wish. The door opens, and she is so startled she actually falls off the bed.

“Ronan?!?!” She exclaims, shocked, embarrassed, and very annoyed. She reaches blindly for something to put on, and makes contact. She pulls the cloth over her head, and climbs back onto the bed and under Roshaun’s arm.

“The universe better be ending,” she warns him.  
“No, nothing so drastic.”  
“Then for the Power’s sake, why didn’t you knock?” He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off, “doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Since the universe isn’t ending, you’re going to leave. Right now.”  
Ronan puts his hands up, “I came on Nita’s request.”  
“Is she dying?”  
“No,”  
She cuts him off again, “then I don’t care.”  
“Nita and Kit rented a cabin out in Colorado. We’re going hiking and having a campfire and there won’t be parental supervision.”  
Dairine raises an eyebrow at him, “since you’re here annoying me, I’ll entertain the notion. When would we leave?”  
“As soon as possible. Everyone is at the Rodriguez’s right now making the last minute preparations. I was told you were sleeping and was sent to wake you.”  
“I’m awake.”  
“Why were we not informed of this trip earlier?” Roshaun asks.  
“You were both unavailable yesterday, which is when we made the decision to go.”  
 _You wanna go?_  
 _Why not? I’d like to see more of your planet_.  
“Alright fine. Just please go now.”  
“Gladly. I need to bleach my eyes.”  
“Learn to knock!” she calls after him.

Once he’s out of earshot, Roshaun starts laughing. Dairine smacks him on the arm lightly, but he doesn’t stop. “Stop laughing!”  
“You must concede, it is an amusing situation,” Roshaun calms enough to say.  
“For you maybe, but he’s going to tell Nita and ‘Mela and Kit and then I’ll never hear the end of it.”  
Roshaun does his version of a shrug, “it’s not as though they didn’t know we engaged in such activities.”  
“Suspecting and having proof are two very different things,” she says, standing up off the bed.  
“True enough,” he agrees, also getting up. “By the way,” he smirks, “you look cute in my shirt.”

It’s only then that she realizes the shirt she had grabbed off the floor had been Roshaun’s. She moves to take it off, but he grabs her hand before she gets it too far up. _Keep it. Like I said, you look cute in it._ She shrugs, but doesn’t take it off. She does, however, go into the closet and change out her undergarments and put on a pair of shorts. She also grabs a bag and shoves some clothes in-enough for three days worth of travel because you just never know.

When she comes out, Roshaun is gone, but his puptent is attached to her wall, so she steps through. His puptent decor is greatly subdued from its original state, mostly because of her removing a lot of the items, but still overdecorated. She sets her bag down by the ‘door’ and runs a hand through her hair. It’s a mess, but there’s no time to deal with that now.

“Hurry up!” she calls to him.  
“You may proceed without me momentarily. I know the way to Kit’s domicile.” He tells her from behind the changing screen.  
“Okay. If you wanna shower, you can use mine.”  
He doesn’t respond for a moment, “that would be most agreeable.”  
“Okay. I’ll see you over at Kit’s then. Bring Spot for me, would you? He’s running an update right now so I don’t want to disturb him.”  
“As you desire.”

He steps out from behind the screen in a new shirt, and gives her a quick peck on the lips. She rolls her eyes and pulls him back, deepening the kiss. She’s on a schedule though, so it doesn’t last too long. After all, she needs to get to Kit’s before the major gossiping has time to get underway.

“See you soon,” she promises, and then steps out of the puptent.

She makes her way quickly down the stairs pulling her hair into a messy bun as she goes, and debates briefly whether to walk or do a transport. Ultimately, she decides to simply jog over.

It doesn’t take her too long, and soon enough she’s stomping through the Rodriguez’s doorway.

“Dairine! Just the girl I was wanting to talk to!” ‘Mela exclaims excitedly, “but where’s your lover boy?”  
“At my house showering,” she says as they walk into the kitchen, where the others have gathered.  
“And you didn’t join him?” ‘Mela teases.  
“Ew ew ew. Gross. I don’t even want to think about that. Please don’t,” Nita says.  
“Unfortunately I can only picture too well what that would look like,” Ronan chimes in.  
“Knocking is a thing. You should learn it,” Dairine sasses him, “and really it wasn’t even that bad.”  
Kit raises an eyebrow, “care to inform us?”  
“Not at all. I don’t kiss and tell.”  
“Please stop. These are things I don’t want to think about my baby sister doing,” Nita groans, banging her head on the table.  
“Ronan shared his recollection of the event with us,” Kit explains.  
Nita looks faintly ill, “he didn’t give us a choice.”  
“Neets. Literally how many times have I walked in on you and Kit making out in the living room? And you weren’t even there!”  
“They are bad,” ‘Mela agrees.  
“And don’t even get me started in on you two. You are terrible. Awful. I don’t even think that much PDA should be legal,” Dairine defends herself.  
“It’s just that it’s you,” Kit explains.  
“Precisely. Who would’ve ever thought we’d catch The Dairine Callahan making out with a guy, shirtless?” Ronan asks.  
“I despise all of you. Leave me alone.”  
“You’re not even doing a good job of hiding it. You’re in his shirt and you haven’t even brushed your hair,” ‘Mela points out.  
“You all already knew anyway,” Dairine says, getting up to look for some breakfast.  
“How’d you get Daddy to agree to this anyway?” She asks as she looks at the options.She settles on cereal, and grabs all the necessary components. She sets down her bowl and pours in both the cereal and milk.  
“It was all ‘Mela,” Nita shrugs.  
Dairine spares a moment’s pity for her father, “he wasn’t too upset?”  
Carmela shrugs, “I told her you and Neets needed a break and this was the perfect opportunity for you two to actually relax for a day. He actually agreed almost right away.”  
“I still can’t believe he’d let us go.”  
“Well I don’t think he was too keen on the idea of you sleeping unsupervised in the same house as your boyfriend, but he understands that he can’t exactly stop you from being involved with Roshaun if that’s what you want. I mean, under his own roof, maybe,” here she pauses and snorts, “then again, clearly not.” Dairine blushes and starts to defend herself, but ‘Mela waves her off, “but aside from that, you literally have the entire universe at your disposal. If you wanted to find somewhere you were completely unsupervised, you could. In fact, there’s an entire planet just for couples who-” Dairine covers her ears, “OKAY! OKAY! I get it. Please stop before you scar me for life.”  
Ronan raises a brow, “no, please continue, I’m interested.”  
“I have to agree with Dari on this one,” Kit adds.  
Nita nods with his statement.

They don’t ever get to find out if Carmela would have continued or not because just then Roshaun knocks on the door and she goes to let him in. Dairine continues eating her cereal, thankful for Roshaun’s impeccable timing.

“I still cannot fathom how you can eat that disgusting soup,” is Roshaun’s greeting. He sets Spot on the table.  
“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s cereal, not soup,” Dairine says, exasperated.  
“Same difference.”  
“Not really. Not at all.”  
“Did you want some breakfast? You are welcome to anything in our pantry,” Kit invites.  
Roshaun makes a ‘no’ motion, “I do not require sustenance at the moment.”  
“Okay so we’re only waiting on Dair, then,” ‘Mela teases her.  
“I haven’t eaten yet today,” she defends herself, “I’m hungry.”  
“Can’t imagine why,” Kit snickers.  
She decides to be the bigger person and ignore him.

While Dairine finishes her breakfast, the rest of the wizards get the transportation ready. She trusts them to get everything right, so when she’s done she washes her bowl and steps into the transit circle, only pausing to pick up Spot. Technically speaking, it’s not necessary to hold Roshaun’s hand, but she does so anyway. They then all recite the words of the wizardry and a breath later appear in the crisp mountain air of Colorado. Dairine glances around at her surroundings. There’s a lot of pine trees and a small creek running nearby. They appear to be fairly isolated.

Nita also glances around and then whispers some words to the lock box, “wizards own the cabin and rent it to other wizards as a vacation spot. I happened upon it in the manual and the person who was supposed to be staying here tonight cancelled,” she explained to Dairine and Roshaun.

Key thus secured, Nita stuck it in the lock and pushed open the door. The inside of the cabin was exactly as one might picture a log cabin to look like. All wood with rustic features. There was a ladder leading to a loft, which housed no beds but appeared to be a sitting room type area. Two doors on the left side of the kitchen area revealed tiny bedrooms when opened, and the doors across the room opened to a slightly larger room and a bathroom. In the middle of the cabin was a dining area. It was unanimously accepted that Nita and Kit should have the largest room, them being the ones who booked the cabin in the first place. The other two rooms were virtually identical, both hosting two twin beds. There was barely space to walk between the beds, and the closet was barely big enough for Roshaun’s puptent. Still, it was an enchanting little space.

Once they’re done getting their room ready and changing for the hike, they emerge into the small kitchen/dining area, where Nit and Kit are already seated and pouring over some hiking guides. Dairine picks up one of the books. It has a drawing of a sun in the top left hand corner and the title reads Telluride Trails. She flips through it briefly before deciding that that’s a job to leave to her sister. Besides, if she wanted to decide where they should go, she’d do her research on Spot, not in some (probably) outdated guide book. Instead, she busies herself by looking in the cabinets and fridge for food. There isn’t any, but the kitchen is well-stocked with dishes, pans, and silverware, along with a coffee maker and other small appliances like a toaster. She has Spot make a list of the groceries they will need for s’mores, breakfast, and whatever they decide on for dinner.

“I found a hike that looks good,” Nita announces, “pretty short but with what looks like some good scenery and views.”  
“Cool,” Dairine says, sliding onto Roshaun’s lap.  
Carmela and Ronan come out of their room just then, “sounds good Miss Yank,” Ronan agrees.  
Nita rolls her eyes, but the gesture is fond, “I thought we would head into town for some lunch after we’re done. Then we can do a bit of souvenir and grocery shopping as well.”  
“Shopping!” Carmela exclaims, “now you’re speaking my language.”  
“Dios mío ‘Mela, do you even have any money left after last week?” Kit asks.  
“Sí, Niño. I have a job.”  
“So do I. I tutor kids, remember? Plus it was Neets and I who paid for this.”  
“The only person who doesn’t have a job is Dairine,” Nita points out.  
“Hey! I get my money from Wednesday poker gatherings.”  
“I love how you call it a gathering to make it seem more legal.”  
“Please. They’re more concerned about big corporations than a small ring of high schoolers trying to make a buck off their friends, or in my case, succeeding,” she winks for effect.  
This earns an eye roll from Ronan, “I’m the only one of you lot with a traditional job.”  
“Bartending, yes we know,” Carmela sighs, “and soon to be business owner.”  
“All thanks to you.”  
“Aww, babe,” she kisses him.  
Dairine rolls her eyes as the kiss starts veering into the territory of going on too long and Kit not-so-subtly subtly clears his throat.  
“Yes, right. Hiking,” Carmela rejoins the conversation perkily.  
“Is everyone ready to go?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Yes.”  
“Totally.”  
“Then off we go!” Nita announces brightly, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

Everyone else grabs their bags too, Dairine’s being the most unique as it has a special place for Spot, who is already in position. They then make their way to where the car is parked because apparently wizard rentals come with cars, which is pretty neat. Kit is the default driver, being the best with mechanical objects and being one of the only people to actually have his license. Luckily, the car is big enough for all of them. Nita calls shotgun, so that leaves Dairine and Roshaun the middle row and ‘Mela and Ronan the very back, which is just as well since they begin making out before Kit even has a chance to turn the keys.

Nita fiddles with the radio until she finds a station she likes and then Dairine accompanies her in singing all the songs at the top of their lungs. Kit occasionally joins in, but mostly keeps his eyes on the road. Roshaun just kind of observes with a mystified smile. The whole car ride passes in this fashion and before they know it, they’re at the trailhead. There, Kit places the car in park and everyone files out.

Nita leads the way down the trail as they all talk about anything and everything, enjoying the time spent in the fresh mountain air. They stop for pictures every once in a while, mostly for Nita who is carrying their dad’s old camera. She insists on getting all kinds of different shots, some of the couples, some of the siblings, and some of the whole group together. Dairine would be more annoyed if she wasn’t feeling so uncharacteristically happy.

They finally reach their destination, a fairly nondescript waterfall. They take a couple more pictures and then turn around and head back to the car. Kit is once more behind the wheel and Nita has an actual paper map she is giving him directions with, even though she does own a phone and Spot could get them anywhere they wanted. Sometimes her sister is old fashioned like that.

The drive is surprisingly peaceful and she leans on Roshaun’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being here with him. He, in turn, wraps an arm around her and she tilts her head up and pecks him lightly on the lips.

 _You’ve been a little quiet today. Everything okay?_ She asks him nonverbally.  
 _Just a little tired. Last night was...exhausting, and I didn’t get much rest._  
She gazes up at him, conveying her concern through her facial expression, _we don’t have to be here, you know. Say the word and we can head back to the cabin, or my house, or even your room._  
 _Hardly necessary. And besides which, I enjoy experiencing what your planet has to offer. Back home, mountainous areas are not nearly so...alive._  
 _If you’re sure._  
“Dairine,” this he mumbles aloud into her hair, “there is nowhere else I would rather spend my time.”  
“Oh, well in that case…” she laughs and leans up to kiss him. She pulls back again almost immediately, but rests her forehead against his before leaning back on his shoulder.

Kit pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the car, giving Dairine her first proper look at the little mountain town. It appears to be something of a one street downtown, and there is a sign advertising a free gondola ride up the mountain and down the other side to the ski resort. Nita is eyeing it so she assumes they’re going to end up doing that after lunch. Everyone climbs out of the car and Carmela leads the way to some food truck she saw in a brochure she suddenly seemed to be holding and begins chattering about all the places she wants to shop. Dairine raises her eyebrows in a what can you do about it? sort of way at Roshaun and, tugging him by the hand, follows ‘Mela.

Lunch is a small and distinctly underwhelming venture. The food truck serves passable food, which no one is very pleased about, least of all Roshaun. ‘Mela doesn’t seem to be phased, though, and moves easily on to stopping in all the small stores that catch her eye, the rest of the crew tagging along for lack of better things to do. Nita is the only person to actually purchase anything, being that the general theme of the shops is outdoor gear and that is not attractive to anyone else. After the seventh outdoor store, even Carmela is ready to call it quits and they unanimously decide to try the gondola instead.

The line is short, but they are all still sent up in one carriage.

“Do your people use this form of transportation often?” Roshaun asks, looking down at the ground with a frown, “it seems impractical.”  
“No, actually, it’s pretty specialized. People generally would only use this when going skiing,” Dairine explains.  
“And what is that phenomenon?”  
“Well, skiing and snowboarding is another type of transportation, I guess, though these days it is most commonly done recreationally. It’s somewhat similar to your people’s ehrb, except all downhill and in the snow. Walking up would be a pain so they invented gondolas and chair lifts.” There happens to be a chair lift in view, so Dairine points it out. She sends him mental pictures with her explanations.  
“Your people never fail to fascinate me with their strange customs.”  
“Perhaps you should become more worldly, Mr. Sun King,” Carmela teases.  
“I believe the term you are looking for there is ‘universely’, not worldly,” Nita saves Roshaun from having to respond.  
“Well what I want to know is how Dairine knows so much about Wellakh, but you still know so little about Earth. I mean, I caught her murmuring to herself in your native tongue last time I visited and you don’t even know English,” Ronan says, “it seems a little unfair to Runt here.”  
Dairine rolls her eyes, “please. It’s hard enough for me to learn a whole new culture. I’d hardly want both of us to be doing that at the same time. Plus I have the advantage of starting way earlier. And what do you know about learning culture? Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. You only care about the kind of alcohol a species has, nothing beyond that.”  
Kit stifles a laugh, but Dairine still hears him.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak to people who own such cultural artifacts as Star Wars bedspreads.”  
“You won’t have any trouble speaking with me then. I don’t own any,” Dairine fires back.  
“You don’t?” Nita and Kit ask at the same time.  
“Threw my last one out about two months ago because it had holes. And besides, you would know that, Ronan, since you so rudely brushed into my room this morning.”  
“Anything but this again, PLEASE,” Nita groans.  
“Fortunately, the departure point approaches. It will not be necessary to converse more on that particular topic,” Roshaun interjects.

It’s true. Their carriage glides nimbly into the station and they all alight. The little village at the base of the ski resort is pleasant, but lacks many stores. They all buy ice cream from a coffee shop, though, and walk around happily licking at the cones before boarding the gondola once more.

When they exit the gondola, they simply file back into the car and head for the grocery store. Telluride apparently was a fairly small town and they’ve pretty much seen all of it. They head to a grocery store called Clark’s Market to do their shopping.

“So this is where you purchase your sustenance. It is...surprisingly diverse,” Roshaun comments, glancing around the store.  
“Where do you get your food?” Dairine asks, curious. She rarely leaves the palace when she visits his planet.  
Roshaun is still glancing around in wonderment, “all the essentials are delivered to the individual households. Specialty items can be purchased at a market when they’re available,” he mentions offhandedly.  
“Wait a minute. You mean to tell me you just get your groceries delivered to you?” Kit asks, disbelieving.  
Roshaun turns his full attention to the conversation, “indeed. We are deprived of the variety and freedom of choice your people seem to have in the selection process, I’m afraid.”  
“Well, you’re in luck then,” Kit grins, “I’ll show you all the good stuff.”  
They go off down an aisle together.  
“How come I feel like we’re going to regret that?” Dairine asks Nita.  
Nita sighs, “because we know them too well to even imagine they’ll buy anything remotely healthy.”  
Dairine thinks of Roshaun’s lollipop addiction ruefully and has the scary thought of him discovering more kinds of candy.  
“That leaves the real shopping up to us then,” Carmela grins.  
They wander into the closest aisle, “so what do we want for dinner?” Nita asks.  
It’s Ronan who makes the suggestion, “I could make bangers and mash.”  
“Oh! Please do! It’s been ages since I had a proper Irish meal,” Nita exclaims.  
“It’s a good thing I’m a budding chef then. I’ve been trying to find more productive habits.”  
“Good for you,” Nita smiles, “you tell us what to get and we’ll get it for you.”  
“Sausages, potatoes, and peas, for a start.”  
“I’ll get the peas,” Dairine volunteers, already walking towards the freezer aisle.

She steps up to the freezer that contains the peas and contemplates the prices quickly. She’s not sure how much they’ll need, so she grabs two bags of the cheapest peas. After all, peas were just peas in her book, no matter the price.

“Dairine Callahan?!?!” a shocked voice calls from behind her, “is that you?”

Dairine turns around, already dreading what is about to happen. The voice belongs to Dan Abraham, a former classmate of hers that had moved away just before classes started last year. He was particularly noteworthy because he used to ask her out incessantly, claiming one day she would “see sense.”

She gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Dan. I didn’t know you moved to Colorado.”  
“Ditto. Unless you’re just a tourist.” He puts a particularly nasty spin on the word.  
“Just a weekend getaway. Obviously didn’t work out that well.”  
He smirks repulsively, “well my parents own a hotel and I have dibs on a room if you care for some higher class accommodations and,” he waggles his eyebrows, stepping closer, “company.”  
She steps back, “yeah, no. Great seeing you! Hope it never happens again!”  
She turns to walk away but he grabs her wrist, “I also have access to the hot tub.”  
She pulls her wrist free and spins to face him, “have fun with that,” she smiles condescendingly.  
His face morphs into a look of confusion, and before Dairine can spin on her heel and walk away for good, long arms are draped over her shoulders from behind. She doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is.

_Is this...child bothering you?_   
_Not enough for me to do anything about it, if that’s what you’re asking._   
_What about for me?_   
_No. He’s just a stupid boy I used to go to school with._

“Who is this?” Dan asks.  
“Not that it’s any of your business, but this is my boyfriend, Roshaun.”  
“You don’t date.”  
“I would never date you. That just means I have standards.”

She really does spin on her heel this time, and Roshaun either knows her well enough to anticipate the move or overheard her thoughts because he lifts his arms a second before she does so, making it all the more easier to interlock their fingers as she walks away. They head up to the front of the store where everyone else already is, and add the peas to the basket. Much to her dismay, there is a separate basket entirely full of candy. She glances at it and shares a tired glance with Nita. Neither of them protest, though, and they ring up all the candy alongside the rest of the groceries.  
~*~  
When they get back to the cabin, Ronan, Nita, and Carmela begin the cooking. Kit offers to help them, but everyone is familiar with his lack of cooking skill so he has to be content with watching from the small living room area. Dairine doesn't even try to volunteer. The kitchen is too small for two people, much less three and four would be a disaster. Not to mention, she generally tries to avoid chores whenever possible.

Instead, she heads outside with Roshaun. He’s always more comfortable in direct sunlight and she could use some fresh air. There’s a hammock hanging in the trees near the tiny porch, and although it seems to be made for one human, they make it work. She’s laying almost completely on top of him, but if it’s uncomfortable for him, he hasn’t said so. Instead, he is gazing upwards and absentmindedly tracing patterns on the back of her hand with his finger. It’s something he does a lot without seeming to notice it, which Dairine finds incredibly endearing.

Wellakhit express affection through hands, so this is especially significant. It was also one of the first Wellakhit customs Dairine had learned, all that time ago when she had met Lady Miril for the first time. The bringing of another’s hands to the forehead was a greeting that communicated a familial affection. Similarly, the bringing of hands to the lips was a greeting between two people in courtship. When greeting acquaintances, you simply took their hands and did nothing with them. And then during courtship different ways of holding hands indicated different things. Simply interlocking pinky fingers indicated an active sexual relationship (mostly used by noble couples who were expected to produce heirs). There was also another special thing Wellakhit could do with their pinky while holding hands that indicated engagement or recent unionbond. Dairine did not have to worry about doing it accidentally though, because Wellakhit had an extra joint in the pinky that Earth humans did not.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Roshaun murmurs into the silence, breaking Dairine from her thoughts.  
“It really is,” she muses, “I suppose that’s the appeal of mountains for people.”  
“Not on my planet.”  
“I know.”  
They’re both silent for a moment, “what’s really bothering you?” She asks.  
“I was not untruthful earlier when I confessed my weariness.”  
Dairine shifts slightly so she’s looking up at him, “but you weren’t speaking about being physically tired were you?”  
Roshaun sighs and looks up to the sky, “I am not sure I am ready to be king.”  
“You are,” she responds confidently. There is not a doubt in her mind that he is.  
Roshaun looks pensively at the clouds, almost as if analyzing them, “I thought I was.”  
She doesn’t say anything, wanting him to finish his thought.  
“I finally feel like I have a life worth living,” he confesses, “which is something I never dared to dream would come to fruition. And now that I have it, I spend the majority of my time trying to aide a planet that despises what I try to give it.”  
Dairine hums in agreement, “you ever thought about a constitutional monarchy?”  
“I do not believe I am familiar with the concept.”  
“So it’s basically where the people have most of the power, but there is still a monarch with veto powers and such. On Earth there is this country called England and they use that kind of government. It might be something for you to look into. Essentially their Queen is a figurehead, though she retains some traditional honors. Obviously the situation for your planet is different and you would have to continue your legacy of looking after the star, but it would be far less time consuming and when things aren’t going perfectly, the blame cannot be placed solely on you.”  
“The idea is not entirely displeasing. I wonder why it has not been implemented before.”  
Privately, Dairine thinks that it’s because his family revels in their power, but aloud she says, “well the political climate may not have been right for that large a step. It seems to me that this is something the planet is ready for now.”  
“I would agree with you. This will not be a short process though.”  
“Oh, I know. We will have to design the new government ourselves and iron out all the kinks.”  
“Your people have endless amounts of idioms,” Roshaun sighs, “it is most peculiar.”  
“I suppose we do,” Dairine agrees, “I’ve never thought about it much.”  
“Cultural differences.”  
“Or maybe we’re just weird.”  
Roshaun snickers, “well I can assure you that’s true.”  
“If I wasn’t laying on top of you, I’d shove you right out of this hammock.”  
“Oh, I am aware.”

She doesn’t do that though, and instead snuggles into his chest more. In return, he moves his arm so it’s more secure around her. They lay like that until Kit comes out to tell them that dinner is ready.

She climbs off him and attempts to jump down, but her shirt gets caught in a low hanging tree branch and she falls face first onto the ground. Both Kit and Roshaun promptly begin laughing. Hard. Dairine gets up and glares at the both of them, then stalks into the cabin.

“Nitaaaaa! I despise your boyfriend.”  
“Same,” chirps Carmela, “he interrupt your make-out sesh?”  
“No!” Dairine tells her indignantly, “and I resent that.”  
Just then, Kit comes in with Roshaun, both of them still laughing. Dairine rolls her eyes at them, “honestly. Pull yourselves together.”  
Nita raises a brow, “what’s happening here?”  
“Dairine, Little Miss Poised herself, fell flat on her face,” Kit explains.  
Roshaun calms enough to contribute details, “it was distinctly amusing.”  
“Yes. Yes. Great fun,” she rolls her eyes, “I don’t know how you put up with him,” she adds in Nita’s direction.  
Nita shrugs “years of experience?”  
Carmela snorts, “you’d think that would make you less inclined.”  
“Tell me about it,” Dairine groans and sits in a chair at the table, “this looks delicious Ronan.”  
“Thanks, Runt.”  
“Okay what I want to know is why I’m the only one who’s getting yelled at,” Kit begins, also sitting in a chair, “Roshaun was laughing at you too.”  
Roshaun waves a hand, “there’s no need to.”  
She levels a new glare at him, “he’s already aware of his wrongdoing.”  
Ronan shudders, “it’s so freaky hanging out with wizarding partners. I always forget you sense each other’s emotions and thoughts and shit.”  
Nita shrugs, picking up a spoonful of peas, “Kit and I don’t so much anymore.”  
“Yeah but you guys are still way more in sync than normal best friends or couples,” Dairine points out, gesturing between them with her fork.  
“Exactly,” Ronan agrees.  
“So what are we doing tonight?” Carmela asks, “I mean s’mores, obviously, but what after that?”  
“Maybe a movie?” Nita suggests, she gestures up towards the loft area, “we could probably all fit on those couches and chair and there’s a TV up there.”  
“Not Star Wars,” Ronan says immediately.  
“I wasn’t even going to suggest it,” Dairine says loftily.  
“Has she made you sit through them yet?” Ronan asks Roshaun.  
“Of course,” Dairine says in sync with Roshaun’s, “yes.”  
Nita raises a brow, “and how’d you find that?”  
“Not altogether terrible. Some things did not translate culturally.”  
Dairine rolls her eyes, “by that he means he criticized every single plot hole, no matter how small.”  
“Of which there were plenty to criticize.”  
She swallows her food then points her fork at him menacingly, “I’m still mad at you.”  
“Oh, I am aware.”  
“And you’re not making it better.”  
Carmela rolls her eyes, “honestly you two, you complain about how you never get to spend any time together and then every time you spend any extended amount of time together you fight. Can’t you just kiss and make up already?”  
“No,” Dairine says stubbornly.  
“It’s their version of foreplay,” Ronan teases.  
Dairine, Nita, and Kit all choke on their food. Roshaun merely frowns disapprovingly. Carmela begins cackling gleefully “oh my god! You’re totally right!”  
“That is quite incorrect,” Dairine and Roshaun day in the same tone at the same time.

Dairine blinks. Perhaps she’s picked up more habits from Roshaun than she’s realized. Or maybe she was unintentionally listening in on his thoughts and acted upon them. Still yet it could be that she’s been spending more time on Wellakh than usual. No matter why she said it it’s undeniably closer to Roshaun’s typical turns of phrase than her own.

Ronan shakes his head, “this is what I meant. Freaky.”  
Dairine glares at him.

The rest of dinner passes comfortably and Dairine reluctantly agrees to do the dishes, feeling as though she needs to contribute somewhat. Outside, Kit is ostensibly building a fire, but when Dairine finishes the dishes and heads out, she sees it’s really Nita who’s doing most of the work. Roshaun is studying his Aethyr intently but she knows nothing too problematic is happening. Nita seems to have the fire making down and Carmela and Ronan are suspiciously absent. She decides to sit in a chair and do some work on Spot for the moment. She picks what looks like the most comfortable chair and sits down. Well second most comfortable chair as Roshaun had already occupied the first. Prick.

Spot comes ambling over and she picks him up. He informs her of one message from her project partner, Kylie. Apparently she was able to get access to some lab space as part of an outreach program. Dairine guesses it probably had less to do with that and more to do with the fact that Kylie’s mother is married to a filthy rich Manhattan business tycoon. Kylie herself isn’t so bad though. Dairine shoots her a quick reply, agreeing to meet her next week at her dad’s house to begin their project and then pulls up some files on constitutional monarchies. She might as well get started on that.

When Nita lights the fire, Dairine looks up, “shouldn’t we abstain from fires? You know on account of being friends with Fil?”  
Nita shrugs, “the wood we used was already dead and died naturally and Kit put a protection spell around the fire ring to stop sparks from escaping and potentially starting wildfires.”  
“And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Kit adds.  
Dairine rolls her eyes, “yes, like that’s a good answer.”  
Carmela flounces over to the fire cheerfully, “Ronan and I broke up!”  
Kit groans, “again? What was it this time?”  
Carmela spares him a pitying look, “you wouldn’t understand, baby brother.”  
“Clearly,” he snorts in response.

Dairine decides to stop working and actually enjoy the fire so she sets Spot aside for a moment and settles back in her seat as Kit sits beside her. Nita takes a place next to him and Carmela next to her. Ronan saunters from the cabin and takes the remaining seat between Roshaun and Dairine.

“Remember when we did this on Tevaral?” Ronan asks.  
“And all you brought was honey graham crackers,” Dairine points an accusatory finger at her sister.  
“And we had to figure out how to roast those mini mallows,” Kit laughs.  
“Is it wrong that I think of that as a vacation?” Dairine asks.  
“I mean, considering some of the problems we’ve had to fix that was a vacation,” Nita reasons, “I mean it was tragic, yes. But we knew what we were signing up for in a sense, and the Powers provided exactly what we needed to solve the problem. I’m not saying it was all cookie cutter clean, but it was at least more transparent than some other wizardries we’ve done.”  
 _Another idiom_ , comes Roshaun’s voice in her head, _cookie cutter clean. Your people are creative, at least._  
 _She rolls her eyes, I’m still mad at you. You’re going to have to step up your flattery quite a bit._  
“There was a certain hopelessness to the situation there though,” Ronan adds to the conversation, “it really made you think a bit. I mean I sometimes still look at our moon and think what if.”  
Kit shakes his head in contemplative agreement, “I know what you mean.”  
“Anyway!” Carmela interjects brightly, “how about some s’mores?”  
Ronan pulls out a roasting fork, “a little more traditional than last time,” he jokes.

Kit bustles around getting out the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. Nita flits around behind him not really doing much but acting as moral support. Dairine leans forward and rests her chin on her hand, deciding to watch what happens before she makes her own s’more. They only have two roasting forks anyway. Ronan and Carmela are the first to roast and while they are doing that, Nita and Kit bicker about the correct way to place chocolate on a graham cracker and Roshaun continues his work, looking up every once in a while with an interested expression. There is an interesting incident where Carmela’s marshmallow slides off her roasting fork and looks as though it is going to hit the fire, but Ronan says a frantic wizardry and saves it in the nick of time, which prompts Carmela to reward him by once more being his girlfriend.

Dairine shakes her head at that, “and you guys think we’re weird,” and takes the fork from Ronan.  
Carmela awards her fork to Nita under protest from Kit. Nita grins at that, “maybe you should try being nicer to ‘Mela, El Niño.”  
“Are you kidding me Neets? I’d sooner eat the fork.”  
Carmela tsks, “listen to your girlfriend, Christopher darling.”  
Dairine does not waste any time browning her marshmallow, instead sticking it right in the flames. Nita frowns, “a little patience wouldn’t kill you Dair.”  
She shrugs, “fail fast.”  
“A reckless technique,” Roshaun criticizes.  
“Funny. I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”  
“How does one concoct these ‘s’mores’?” Roshaun asks Carmela.  
“Well you toast the marshmallow so it’s nice and soft and gooey, and then you place it between two graham crackers and chocolate,” she explains.  
“The casual way your species consumes chocolate is astounding.”  
“What does it do to you?” Kit asks.  
“Nothing,” Carmela answers before he gets the chance, “I’ve been doing research.”  
“Chocolate is used to indicate desire for a betrothal. The larger quantity and better quality, the more impressive the request. The act of giving chocolate indicates the desire and typically only at a betrothal do we consume it,” he explains.  
“That’s...elaborate,” Dairine comments, “but we’re not on Wellakah so you can have some if you want.”  
“I would rather not. It would feel inappropriate.”  
She shrugs, “fair enough.”  
“So how much chocolate is a good proposal?” Ronan asks.  
Roshaun spreads his fingers apart, indicating a size about half a Hershey’s bar square, “a middle class citizen would be impressed by an amount of this approximate sizing.”  
Ronan whistles, “and how thick is it?”  
“As thin as the chocolate master can make it. He melts down any chocolate he can find and spreads it as thinly as possible so as to make the most pieces.”  
“Huh,” is her only response at the moment.

In the end, they just decide to make Roshaun a toasted marshmallow. He seems to enjoy it, having an affinity for anything with sugar in general. They sit around the campfire for a while longer and then head in to watch some movies. Nita was lobbying for Pride and Prejudice, supported in that endeavor by Dairine who was a not-so-secret secret Jane Austen fan. Kit and Ronan wanted to watch the new Avengers movie, which Dairine also could get behind. They had access to pretty much any movie they wanted, courtesy of the Mobiles and Spot, so it was really more an issue of who could agree on what.

The issue is solved without too much trouble, everyone agreeing to watch Pride and Prejudice first and then the Avengers movie, and possibly after that Harry Potter. Dairine had opposed that, advocating for instead watching the movies back to back in a marathon. She had been wanting to show them to Roshaun anyway, thinking he’d be amused by the depiction of wizards. Also, he’d then be in on their jokes about Muggles. Not that it wasn’t amusing to see him continually confused/amused by references to subculture he wasn’t familiar with.

They all crowd onto the couches, Roshaun and Dairine claiming one, she having forgiven him for his earlier transgressions, Nita and Kit the other. Ronan sits in the chair, ‘Mela on his lap, which can’t be too comfortable, but he’s not complaining. Dairine has Spot connect to the TV and play the movie, and they all settle in.

A little over two hours later, the end credits roll.  
“What did you think?” Dairine asks Roshaun.  
“It was an inspiring tale. There was a resemblance to some of our own cultural ideas.”  
“What are movies like on your planet, Kingling?” Carmela asks.  
“We do not have anything that would be culturally analogous. While we do have performers, none of the performances are saved for viewing at another time. I do quite enjoy watching these “movies”, though.”  
Ronan grins, “then it’s Avengers time!”  
Spot loads it automatically and the iconic intro begins.

~*~

Dairine wakes to darkness, an unfamiliar weight draped over her midsection. She turns slightly to find the unfamiliar weight is in fact a familiar one, Roshaun’s arm. They’re still on the couch. Apparently they had fallen asleep during the movie. This doesn’t surprise her too much, given that they had both missed out on a good night’s sleep after the Golden Ball. Someone had draped a blanket over them, probably Nita. She pulls it more securely over her shoulders and snuggles back into Roshaun. He doesn’t even stir. She then yawns and closes her eyes again, drifting back off to sleep.

As the sun begins streaming in the window hours later, neither of them stir, completely at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I promise, the chapters get better as it goes.


End file.
